Pistachio Gelato & Blackberry Creamsicle Sherbet

I know it’s been a while. A long while. I’m sorry that I’ve stopped sending daily photos – it’s because I don’t have any photos to send. And I know I haven’t called in weeks. Every day is a jumble of classes, radio, clubs, essays, work, and somehow the things I used to be so passionate about have been pushed aside in the struggle. But I also know how much I care about you, and more importantly, you know it too. Four days until I fly home.

Dad, it was so good to see you over Thanksgiving. I opened the car door and saw you standing in the garage. You just looked at me like you were seeing sunlight for the first time in months. I had just woken up; I didn’t care that you were in work clothes and covered in dust when I fell into that hug. I love that it didn’t take more than ten minutes for one of your smart aleck comments to get on my nerves. You probably missed the way I roll my eyes.

I missed your cooking. I was glad you remembered I like my spaghetti swimming (drowning) in tomato sauce, even though I knew you wouldn’t forget. Did you see how quickly I shoveled that potato-celery root puree down? Yes, I was hungry, and no, they don’t cook food like that in our dining hall. But what really made it good was the way it tasted like twilight on the patio, too many dishes on the counter, the warmth of a dog under the table. Even though I slept for two days straight that week, it was good to be home.

Also, it was fun kicking your butt in Wii boxing.

Mom. I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since August. When we parted, our red currants were still in season and it was so hot in Boston, I almost passed out that afternoon at the T station. Now, the metal spokes of my umbrella are mangled from wind and my rubber rain boots have split along the sides. We’ve had little flurries of snow, but I still stubbornly wear sundresses to class. You’d throw a fit if you saw me walk out like that. I’d point to my tights, and you’d tell me to put on another coat. (You’d be right.)

I always think about the last time I saw you. We were sitting in Neptune Oyster, having our last dinner together. I had finished eating a while ago, but I kept watching you pick at your calamari. I couldn’t bring myself to get up and leave because I knew I would be gone for good. There was no chance of me saying it aloud, but I was terrified. I remember our last hug, and rushing to leave before it overwhelmed me. The last thing I remember is your face – so conflicted.

I know you stress. I hear it in your voice when we talk on the phone, even though you try not to mention your anxieties. You’re worried I’m not eating right, not sleeping enough, working too hard. Maybe. But I hope you know I’m happy despite everything. I’ve grown up a lot in a semester, in most ways for the better. I can’t wait to make you proud with what I’ve accomplished.

The first half of my freshman year went by in a blink. The other day I got in an elevator with the director of undergraduate admissions. He recognized me, and he was seriously interested: was the school a good fit? Was I finding a good balance between challenge and creativity? I told him I was. When I visited in April, I was uncertain. Today, I am sure.

Dad, when we flew out six months ago to check this place out, you remember how much I liked the radio station and the internship opportunities. I was impressed with the students I met and the professors I spoke with. But sometimes I think the decision really came down to… nougat.

It was spring, and cherry blossoms lined the North End like pale pink bridesmaids. We were walking down the brick streets when we saw a huge group of people standing outside Modern Pastry. We’d never heard of it, but we figured we couldn’t argue with a wait like that. When we finally got into the bakery, we bought a bar of nougat – simple, unassuming, and a little out of our comfort zone.

The first bite. Sticky sugar on our fingers and the way every piece melted in our mouths. I thought I’d never had anything so good before. We fought over the last bite. I can’t remember who let who have it. I don’t go into the North End as often as I’d like, but I never forget that nougat.

I tried to recreate it myself, a version with orange blossom water and pistachios. It was, well, utterly inedible. Recipes involving candy thermometers are my weakness, so the nougat never came together. Even after I stuck it in the fridge, it was a sticky disaster, caught between solid and liquid, and a total waste of nuts. It did make me laugh.

But I still had half a bag of pistachios, so I split their shells and poured whole milk into a saucepan. A good fit for another Italian dessert, gelato. Elegant, subtle, and a buttery green, it captured the spirit of my favorite nut perfectly. I also had a bag of frozen blackberries – remember how we picked them over the summer? – so I thought I’d make a blackberry creamsicle sherbet too. It turns out, blackberry and pistachio go beautifully together, the nuttiness of one balancing the sweetness of the other.

Maybe I’ll try the nougat again when I’m home. But most likely not. I’ll spend every day with you two, Mom and Dad, and with Grandma (I’m studying hard and having fun) and Tilly and Otis. I’ll gorge myself on some real food, catch up on a lot of sleep, and find that new balance between child and adult I’m still discovering.

I know how obsessively you two check 17 and Baking, so you’ll read this before I’m home, probably within hours of its posting. I’m not going to say how much I love you, because that’s the kind of thing you do in person. Four days, Mom and Dad.

Elissa

Unfortunately, I don’t have the recipe for the blackberry sherbet – that’s what I get for making a recipe up as I go along without taking notes. Luckily, I do have the recipe for the pistachio gelato. It’s such a snap to make – really, the hardest part is shelling those pesky nuts. The result is a thick, creamy gelato, not completely smooth but a little textured, an all-natural pale green. It’s beautiful. It’s something I’ll make again when I have a bag of pistachios (I’ll leave the nougat to the experts.)

In a food processor, grind the pistachios and 1/4 cup sugar into a fine powder. Combine with milk and almond extract in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Whisk the yolks and remaining sugar in a medium bowl. Ladle a spoonful of hot milk mixture bit by bit into the yolks, stirring constantly, to heat the yolks without cooking them. Add the egg mixture to the saucepan and stir over medium-low heat until the custard thickens slightly. The custard should leave a clear trail on the back of a spoon when you run a finger through it. Remove from heat and strain into a medium bowl. Refrigerate until cold. Churn through an ice cream maker.

I started reading your blog a few weeks ago, and I just wanted to tell you how much I love it. Your writing and photographs are beautiful, I feel like I’m right there with you in all of your stories. I’m so impressed with your baking skills for someone your age. And now I feel ridiculous for saying something so motherly/grandmotherly since I’m only 6 years older than you! Anyway, I just wanted to say hi, and to enjoy your time with your family!

And you Senorita, have no information to base a statement like that on. Having been a long time reader (and first time commenter), Elissa has always struck me as an intelligent, thoughtful woman and daughter who is talented in writing, photography and food preparation. As a college teacher myself, I see all kinds of young adults and would welcome a student like Elissa.

11.bell | December 14, 2010 at 3:15 pm

The very fact that you would write such a comment speaks volumes about you. It is rude, presumptuous, unnecessary and inappropriate. I hope for your sake that these are not also accurate descriptions of you – however, there is no evidence to suggest otherwise.

what a rude thing to say……. O_o I know if u have a public blog you might get that kind of comments, but that’s totally uncalled for, it’s a beautifull post of a young woman talkng to her parents and I really dont get why some people have nothing to do, but just be mean.
jealousy, that ‘s what it is!!!

Elissa,
LOOOVE your blog, and your cooking and photography, of course.
Sometimes it bothers me that you dont post more often :P
I love the way you write, keep on enjoying life like you do!!!!

Merry christmas!!!!

13.K | December 14, 2010 at 3:39 am

I am not your parent. . but a friend and this made me cry. . I hope your stay in Seattle is wonderful. . Enjoy your family!!!!! Merry Christmas Elissa:)

elissa,
you certainly do your parents proud. it is my pleasure to come to your site & share your recipes & stories. you are talented & gifted & you make an impression on people…
that is why the director of undergraduate admissions remembered you.
may your holiday be filled with the love & warmth of family & friends!

Elissa, This post brought tears to my eyes. You write so well and I really look forward to your posts. And I can relate to your parents. Even though our son is a few years older and has graduated and moved away, he’s coming home for Christmas next week and we are so excited. Your parents must be counting the minutes! Keep writing and enjoy your time in Seattle. Happy Holidays to you and your family!

This post brought tears to my eyes; having just gotten home from my first semester at college and seeing my family again, this made me realize how much things can change in just a few months, but some things never change. Your posts are so relatable…please keep it up.

You are an amazing writer and photographer. I can imagine how excited you must be to be going home – I know I sure am. (Three more days!!!) Your parents must be proud to have a daughter like you. Congratulations on a successful first semester, and have a phenomenal winter break. :)

Hey Elissa, I’ve just finished my first term at university in England and can’t tell you how good it is to be home and catching up with sleep, eating good food and spending time with my family…but I’m starting to miss uni again already!

Elissa – I am the mom of a 14 year old, applying to High School. This makes me realize how swiftly I will be in your parents’ shoes, waiting patiently until my daughter comes home for the holidays after her first semester at college. Enjoy this time of your life and know that your parents raised you to go away, become independent and successful – and are still home, loving you and supporting you in all you do (and a bit wistful about it as well.)

Happy to see your post. I missed it. You’ve got a great family, so much love. It’s refreshing to hear about a loving family. I love sherbet and that picture with the ice crystals is magical. I can almost feel the creamy texture and taste it’s sweetness. Yummy!!!!!!!!!!

wow, such an awesome post. makes me want to be a better daughter and person :) also, now i have to try the nougat. my dad saw it on food network so maybe that’s what i will get him for christmas. i always go to mike’s pastry but will try modern since you wrote so passionately about it.

Excellent writing! I now regret I ignoring your link many times. Such a sweet letter. It made me remember the times when my mom and i used to write to each other. She’s the reason I love pistachios so much. I’ll make one of these in her memory.

Hi, I’ve read your blog every now and then, and I just wanted to say that you are certainly very gifted at both writing and baking. I just graduated from college, so I can kinda relate to your experiences, though I went to schools (I transferred after my sophomore year) much closer to home than yours. Enjoy your undergraduate years; if you happen to go to graduate school (as I have), it’s much more stressful with not nearly as much leisure time. Happy holidays!

Oh, and as for the reason why I stopped by your site this time: I was looking for a good gingersnap/gingerbread cookie recipe, and I saw that you deemed your gingersnaps as the “best cookies ever.” I’ll take your word for it :)

Hung on to every word you wrote. How articulate and evocative you are. Love your expression…and of course the delicious combination of my favourite nuts, pistachios, and this beautiful berry! {We don’t get blackberries in India, so I am hugely envious!} Girl, you are good! happy Holidays!

This post is so beautifully written. I, too, went all the way across the country to study journalism. It was an exciting time, but also a big adjustment being away from my mom. You’ve put those complex emotions into words perfectly. You certainly have a gift for food and writing. What a fantastic future you have ahead of you!

Elissa, as another young lady who enjoys cooking and is passionate about family and is from the Boston area, I enjoy what you have to offer and am thankful you do so. Thank you for sharing your recipes, adventures and talents. I wish we were all committed and brave enough to share these things in life and I admire you for it.
Senorita, I have a feeling you belong on a different type of blog site. Why bother saying a thing or reading anything if you don’t have anything nice to say? Wishing someone had taught you more manners.

This post is definitely one of my favorites for the sole reason that I can relate to what you are going through. I am currently finishing up me Senior year of high school, and I am certain that I will encounter the things that you speak of above (late nights, power naps, endless studying, etc.). I can already see my hectic schedule overpowering my daily phone calls, constant visits, and so on, but I admire how you find time to continue doing the things that make you, well, you. Your love for your parents and family is a beautiful thing, and your willingness for life’s adventures is without a doubt something that many others yearn for.